


to you, darling; i say it to the paint

by phant0m



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Graduation, i'm not the best at tagging things, it's just what my heart needed, my city now.png, they're in a long distance relationship post-grad but they celebrate new year's together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 00:23:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17254139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phant0m/pseuds/phant0m
Summary: of snowfall, fireworks, hot cocoa, a canvas no longer blank, and the spaces for quiet things and new beginnings.





	to you, darling; i say it to the paint

**Author's Note:**

> i could have included this in my one-shot collection, but i felt it was long enough to post on its own, so here it is. happy first fic of 2019! my partner leo requested some light-hearted shuleo to chase the relatively heavy shuleo i've written prior, so we ended up discussing this idea and i got caught up in it. please note that everything may not be precisely factually correct here; all of the research i could do and videos i could watch still only provided so much. this is just some soft content to warm everyone's hearts on this fine new year's eve / new year's day. title from richard siken's "[the way the light reflects](https://bodyliterature.com/2014/04/28/richard-siken/)". enjoy! ♡

It’s New Year’s Eve, and the Sacré Coeur Cathedral Plaza is alive. While the gentle dusting of snow drifting to the ground generally obscures the view of the Parisian skyline, the lights of the plaza themselves glimmer into an exquisite and otherworldly sight, and the murmur of those gathered to celebrate the occasion is such a vague hum of background noise it almost approaches something pleasant. Tucked back a safe distance from the crowds, Shu huffs out a fog of an exhale as he tucks his gloved hands further into the pockets of his peacoat.

Truly, it is lovely, and he tilts his head skyward, watching the way such brightness casts itself onto the clouds.

This season has always been a particularly contemplative one for Shu, but the past few years have cast it in moreso of a positive light. He’s never been one for the traditional thoughts that accompany the entry into a new year; time is a human construct, after all, and not a particularly well-designed one at that. However, all of the talk of new beginnings has always brought him some sort of childish hope with which he may wipe the slate clean, start over, forget what rot festered on the canvas only moments before. Could he be faulted for desiring such solace?

Yet, now, he finds himself longing not to start over, but to build. He has anguished over the painting he has become, with its dark backdrop and frayed edges and rich color blooming nonetheless, and to replace such a thing with blank white would be tragic. So, instead of a new beginning, he regards this as a continuation; a step forward on the same journey, more paint on the same canvas.

It’s a quiet thing, this progress. Thus, he really doesn’t understand why Leo wanted them out at such an hour, particularly for something such as a celebration. Moreover, he doesn’t understand why he agreed, but for the fact that he has always, on some level, been swayed to Leo’s whims. Even when they were teenagers.

Snow flecks his face, leaving his skin chilled, and a memory catches with it. Faintly, he recalls Leo carrying him through this same snow, miles and miles away, where it was packed much deeper and denser. Laughing and clumsy even as he saved Shu’s life. A disaster, yet one with the best of intentions and the simplest of poignance. _“Just have fun,”_ he had said. _“Even you have to, sometimes.”_

Which sounds suspiciously similar to the words Leo used to persuade him earlier on this very evening. Years may have passed, and they may call entirely different places home now, but my, how they have changed, and how they have not changed at all.

The thought allows Shu to smile to himself.

“Shu!”

He tilts his head at the sound of his name, and Leo is weaving through people with little regard for any path but his own, a cup clutched in his hands. The cold is raising pink on his cheeks, and he appears to be shivering. Really, Shu had _told_ him to wear more than just a sweater in this weather, told him to wear proper gloves rather than ones that bared his fingers to the threat of frostbite, and yet --

Leo is grinning, and there’s snow flecked in his hair, resting in the curls of the loose and longer ponytail he wears it in now.

Promptly, all of Shu’s scolding words fade to nothing in his throat.

“Aaah, I missed you,” Leo says, even though he’s been gone for mere minutes and even though they’ve both made the statement often enough that it is merely, like the murmur, background noise. It can’t be said enough to span miles, to span time, to span apologies for missed opportunities, to span countless _I know that you are busy and I understand but I desperately wish that you were here with me tonight_ s. It can’t be said enough, but in this moment, it’s already forgiven. In this moment, they are both here. “You looked so beautiful just now, you know? Like I wasn’t even looking at something real. I wish I could’ve captured it, but…” It’s certainly a good thing that Leo has become a tad bit more mellowed with age, lest he begin composing on the plaza itself. Shu can see the urge still lingering in the telling twitch of his fingers. “I just mean it’s good to see you so relaxed even in a crowd, Shu. Really good? It’s, like you used to say all the time, _très bien_.”

Leo leans up to press a kiss to Shu’s cheek, unexpectedly warm, and Shu is thankful for the state of the weather hopefully hiding the flush he feels sweep across his face. That Leo recognizes his growth more than he does at times beckons something so terribly tender within him, and were they not in public he would allow himself that. He would.

“You speak as if that has fallen out of my vocabulary. If anything, it has only become more relevant,” he scoffs. At the feeling of Leo ignoring him entirely to nudge insistently at his arm, he pulls a hand free of his pocket to accept the cup, eyeing it uncertainly. “What is this?”

“Hot cocoa, hello? I’m not here to try to get you drunk _yet_. That can wait until we’re home.” Leo laughs, gesturing with his hands as he talks. Shu’s thoughts cling to the word _home_. Entirely different places for each of them, and yet the same when both are there. “It’s cold, so I thought this would help. It’s, mmm, dark chocolate? I know you don’t really like sweet stuff.”

Which is, Shu thinks, a rather underrated way of saying _I love you_.

Shu takes a wary sip, and it’s still a tad too hot, but it _is_ delicious. “I appreciate it,” he says, watching idly as an errant snowflake falls into the liquid and promptly dissolves. “You did not get any for yourself?”

Leo snorts. “Why would I do something like that when I could just steal some of yours?”

Yes, nothing less should be expected of Tsukinaga Leo. Shu narrows his eyes as he shoots him a sidelong glare, but really, he’s shivering much more than expected. He’s still smaller than Shu, having _vastly_ overestimated the growth age would bring him, thus ever moreso susceptible to the cold, and God, of course it would come to this.

Of course Shu would do it, despite.

Delicately trading his drink between his hands, Shu makes quick and fastidious work of the buttons on his peacoat to shrug it off and drape it around Leo’s shoulders. He can feel Leo gradually come even more alive at the gesture, shock and joy sparking in his eyes like firecrackers. He avoids the matter entirely as he tucks his scarf into his own, thicker sweater.

Which he can’t expect Leo to accept.

“Such a romantic, Shu,” Leo teases as he slips his arms into the coat. It’s long on him, almost comically so, but of course Leo doesn’t seem to mind. Rather, he presses himself shamelessly into Shu’s side, more or less snuggling up to him to share the heat. It’s an entirely subconscious motion to move and drape an arm around Leo’s shoulders, one which can’t be taken back once it’s done, and Leo seizes the opportunity to nuzzle even closer with one of the lightest and sweetest laughs Shu can place in recent history. Shu’s shiver has nothing to do with the temperature.

“I swear our old alumni would die on the spot if they saw you right now, but -- hm.” Shu can feel Leo tilting his head up to look at him even as he continues to distract himself with swirling his drink in the cup. How much interest in hot cocoa can one possibly feign? Shu must be testing the record tonight. “I think very few of them knew how fragile and caring you really are.”

“I am not,” Shu objects on instinct, but he bites his tongue the moment he says it. He skims a touch over the fabric at Leo’s collarbone, slips a glance his way, and finds Leo waiting knowingly. He thinks over how firm the words sounded, how obvious and immature a denial they were, and, at length, sighs. “I suppose there is no use protesting in this scenario, is there?”

“Nope,” Leo chirps cheerfully. “You can’t fool me anymore, so you might as well just give up!”

" _Pardon_?"

Leo’s cat clever smile tells Shu he’s merely goading him into the argument.

So, in counterpoint, Shu falls utterly silent.

How they have changed, and yet, how they have not changed at all.

Their stalemate isn’t fated to last long before their attention is diverted. Excitement sweeps along the plaza like a tangible thing, a slow ripple, as the early stage of the countdown begins to flow outwards. Voices are cheering, and quick among them is Leo’s, joining in the celebration with enough bravado for the both of them.

Ten. The audible thrill in Leo’s tone is radiant and infectious.

Nine. This is the first holiday they’ve spent together since Shu left.

Eight. The way Leo looks right now, shining exuberant in the snowfall and Shu’s clothes, is definitely ensuring it’s one that won’t ever be forgotten.

Seven. Shu is happy to be here with him. He can allow himself that, now: the simplicity of happiness. He can allow himself to love and to be loved. He may still be graceless with it at times, unsure of how to hold it properly, but Leo is all too familiar with that same learning curve. Leo is patient.

Six. Leo nudges at him as if to indicate he should join in, and Shu shakes his head. Let this be, as it always has been, a quiet thing.

Five. There’s a hard tugging at the sleeve of his sweater, clearly prompting him into motion.

Four. Shu turns, and Leo is leaning up to wrap an arm around him, fingers tangling in the back of his hair.

Three. Expecting a traditional kiss on the cheek and tilting his head accordingly is perhaps not the best judgment in this particular instance.

Two. Leo’s free hand is gripping his chin, pulling him back, pulling him down, pulling him in until he can’t see anything but the way the backlit cathedral reflects in the bright green of Leo’s eyes. There’s something haunting and gorgeous in that image. There are snowflakes caught in his eyelashes.

One. Leo’s whisper of the number and Shu’s soft intake of breath are both lost somewhere in the inch between their mouths.

A new year is greeted with the boom of vibrant fireworks and Leo’s lips pressed to his. One is the precisely the same as the presence of the other.

The gesture is not a question so much as a fact. The fact of a vow that need not be spoken. The fact of time and holy spaces. The fact of their bodies touching beneath stars and showers of flame. Shu can feel the euphoric cacophany in the air manifest in his thunderous heartbeat as he shifts, lays a hand against Leo’s cheek, and kisses him back.

So there’s the light, and the crowd, and the roar of what some would call a new beginning. So there’s the snow, falling in heavier drifts, brushing exposed skin as only the barest of imprints. So there’s the hot cocoa, only partially sipped, but still not forgotten.

The first kiss melts into a second, which blooms into a third, which crescendoes at a fourth, each slower and more caring than the last. Leo is sighing and smiling into him. Leo is warm against him. Leo is soft beneath his touch.

So they’re in public, and Shu finds himself terribly tender, because he forgets to register the rest.

What he registers is this: that the newest brush stroke across the canvas is not a quiet thing.

It is vivid, it is explosive, and one day he suspects it could be the foundation of their masterpiece.

Perhaps a celebration is what they deserve.

This is for them.

**Author's Note:**

> the "just have fun. even you have to, sometimes." dialogue referenced here is lifted directly from [knights star festival - holy knights 6](http://ensemble-stars.wikia.com/wiki/Star_Festival). please talk to me about shuleo (or enstars in general) at [kingsiderook](http://twitter.com/kingsiderook) on twitter!


End file.
